The two of them soon entered Qin Mohan's study.
Seeing the room packed with books, Su Qiao's eyes lit up. "This many books?"
"This is only part of them. There are more in my study on the fourth floor."
Qin Mohan smiled and pushed her toward the sofa by the window. Just as he was about to bend down and lift her onto it, Su Qiao climbed out of the wheelchair herself.
He had no idea how she had managed it, but she had slipped the cast off her right ankle like a sock and stepped onto the floor barefoot.
Qin Mohan stared at the small, fair foot on the gray carpet, his Adam's apple bobbing twice.
So small! So delicate!
Like a top-tier work of art...
I wonder...
Qin Mohan realized what he was thinking. His ears grew hot, and he hurriedly stopped himself.
His voice was a little hoarse. "There may be a carpet on the floor, but it's still a little cold."
As he spoke, he suppressed his pounding heart, bent down, and picked up the small white slipper from the floor.
He crouched by her feet, gently lifted one of them, and carefully slipped the shoe on.
Su Qiao didn't notice anything odd about his expression. Her mind was entirely occupied by the bookshelves around her. "Have you read all these books?"
"Most of them."
Qin Mohan didn't dare look at her. Blushing, he stood up, turned to a wall, and pulled open a cabinet to switch on the wall lamp inside.
"You're pretty amazing." Su Qiao's gaze held a hint of admiration.
Qin Mohan hadn't thought it was anything special, but hearing her say that suddenly made him a little pleased with himself.
He smiled faintly. "My grandfather raised me as the heir from an